


Head over Heels

by NRGburst



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Secret Snoggletog 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NRGburst/pseuds/NRGburst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For whatever-fangirl, prompt: Rufflout and Hiccstrid. </p><p>So I thought back to HTTYD 2:</p><p>  <em>"Didn't she try to bury you alive?"</em></p><p>  <em>"Only for a few hours!"</em></p><p> <br/>(There just had to be a story there.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Head over Heels

Really, it was all Hiccup’s fault.

 

Astrid had grown out of her old winter things and the Hoffersons had had a lean year: blight and early frost had made their farm earnings rather slim. She’d been making do with her summer gear during dragonracing practice and excursions- Astrid’s not one to complain. But being all observant and thoughtful and whatnot, Hiccup had made her a new fur hood with matching wristlets for Snoggletog.

And the way she’d beamed and planted one on his scrawny cousin as if he’d defeated some ginormous dragon again when all he’d done was sew some pelts together had gotten Snotlout thinking: a chivalrous gift might be the way to the heart of his fair princess.

Thing is, he wasn’t really sure what Ruffnut _liked._

So he enlisted a little expert help- Tuffnut knows her better than anybody, given the whole twin thing.

“I guess she likes watching a good fight. You know, some colorful bruising, blood splattering artistically when someone breaks a nose- that sort of thing.”

Snotlout nods with satisfaction. “As expected from a fine Viking female. But I can’t just beat up Hiccup anymore without Toothless getting in the way…”

Tuff shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. Huh.” His expression turns crafty. “How about if you let her beat _you_ up? She’d _love_ that. Plus you might get a cool scar out of it.”

Snotlout gives him a look- he’s not falling for that one. “Yeeeeaah, I don’t think so. I’m thinking more on the lines of something from Trader Johann…”

Tuff perks up. “How about a nice mace buffer?”

Snotlout makes a disgusted noise and shoves him. “I’m not getting stuff for _you_!”

Tuff shrugs. “Okay, okay! It was worth a shot! Well how about you do something dramatic? You know- show her how you feel or whatever.”

Snotlout frowns, tilting his head as he considers. Grand gestures sound promisingly chivalrous. “Like what?”

“I dunno- maybe make something? We made this statue out of mashed turnips once that was totally awesome. You should have seen the mold that grew off that thing-”

Snotlout nods, a smile spreading across his face as the idea takes hold. “Yeahhh, hey, that could totally work!” He claps Tuffnut on the back. “Thanks, man.”

Tuff gives him a dubious look. “Yeah, whatever. Don’t know why you want to impress her anyway.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Snotlout swaggers into Meade hall a few hours later, grinning wider when he spots Ruffnut with her mom speaking to Stoick. He respectfully waits until they conclude their business- this could be his future mother-in-law, after all. Ruffnut doesn’t notice him as she stands attentively beside her mother.

“We’d be delighted to create the tapestry, Chief. I assure you Thorston craftsmanship cannot be beat. And you know the artistry of my children.”

“Excellent. It would be nice to get it up before Dragonracing season really picks up. I’d like to hang it behind the throne onstage.”

The two women exchange a surprised look and Ruffnut chews her lip hesitantly. “Well… I’ll have to check what yarn we have in stock. I’m not sure-”

“We will do our best to have it completed before the first official race,” her mother says firmly, giving her a stern look, and Ruffnut ducks her head and slouches before nodding.

Stoick beams. “Wonderful. Well, I have to get back to the workshop, but keep me informed on your progress. And a Happy Snoggletog to you!”

They echo the greetings, but her mother whirls to admonish Ruff as soon as the Chief is out of earshot.

“Ruffnut! _Never_ give a client reason to doubt your abilities during the initial negotiation. He could find another weaver.”

Ruff shrugs insolently. “Okay, but we’re the best. Why would he go elsewhere? And I was just being realistic. Tuff and I might not have time to train if we have to spin and dye new stock.”

Her mother rolls her eyes before huffing indignantly. “What puts food on the table- dragonracing or weaving? It’s called a livelihood for a reason: _priorities, Ruffnut._ Now go find your brother and get started. All of Berk will see that tapestry! I know you’ll do the Thorston name proud.”

Ruff sighs and nods, rolling her eyes. “Okay, okay.”

Satisfied, her mother gives her shoulder a squeeze and Snotlout a speculative look before departing.

Ruffnut gives him an impatient look. “What are _you_ hanging around for? I gotta find Tuff now.”

Snotlout smiles confidently. “Well, it just so happens that I can lead you straight to him, babe.”

Ruffnut blinks. “What?”

“You are, you know. Not like, a baby, but like a beautiful, badass-“

“ _Just lead the way!_ _Ugh_. What is _wrong_ with you?” she exclaims, giving him a shove.

“Hey! Nothing, just allow me to guide my fair maid to- I’m going, I’m going!”

Ruffnut’s disgusted glower –and the fact that she’s pulled out her spear— makes Snotlout hustle faster.

No wonder his dad had warned him about the dangers of wooing Viking women. Sheesh.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He’s feeling a bit more confident once they get closer though- he can’t wait to see her smile. Heck, he might even get a kiss the way Hiccup did: Ruff’s the demonstrative type. And Ruffnut is so focused on treading in the path he’s ploughing through the knee-deep snow that she doesn’t notice the sculpture until he’s got her in the agreed upon “viewing spot”.

She just stops, jaw dropping when she looks up and sees it.

 

In hindsight, he should have understood why Tuffnut looked so gleeful while he was helping sculpt the thing.

 

After all, they’d taken such pains to create the heroic pose: a larger than life snow Snotlout holding a smiling snow Ruffnut on his knee.

Her eyes narrow as she tilts her head to examine it, mouth still agape. 

He would describe her expression as “dumbfounded” or perhaps “mystified” rather than “delighted ” though.

 

“Well? What do you think? Trying to declare my intentions, you know,” he says, scuffing his boot in the snow. This is _not_ going the way he had planned.

“You wanna date Tuffnut?”

“What?! No! That’s supposed to be _you_!”

 

Her expression is now definitely “horrified”.

 

_“What?”_

And if that wasn’t bad enough, they both hear Tuffnut doing a terrible job of muffling his laughter, and they whirl to glare at him, sniggering atop Belch while their dragons look on with interest.

 

Ruffnut doesn’t even hesitate, dashing towards their Barf and Belch while making a couple hand signals.

And a few seconds later Zippleback gas and sparks have reduced the sculpture to a moving mountain of slush and snow.

 

Most _unfortunately_ , Snotlout’s still in that prime viewing spot…

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

She says later that really, it was kinda romantic. After all, nobody had ever made such a grand gesture for her before, and it really tickled her to see him buried up to his ears and stuff.

“It’s just too bad I was trying to kill Tuff- couldn’t really enjoy it. Maybe next time.”

 

Snotlout just laughs and prays she was kidding. It’s hard to tell with Viking women.

 

Sure it was annoying trying to get Hookfang to help when it became apparent that Ruff was too focused on chasing down Tuff to come back and dig him out. Hookfang is really all brawn no brains sometimes- plus he has a sneaking suspicion the old boy was getting a kick out of seeing him buried and helpless too.

He was pretty frozen when Hookfang finally melted him out- took a ridiculous amount of effort to save all his extremities from frostbite.

He can’t really complain though- if not for this whole debacle, he might not have overheard the surer way to Ruff’s heart: helping her score at Dragonracing when her parents keep her working instead of practising.

Much less likely to incur bodily injury and cost effective to boot.

Snotlout can hardly wait to get started...

 

 


End file.
